


Under the Big Top

by DeimosTheMoon



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Circus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Reader, Murder, Murder Mystery, Non-cannon characters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Sexism, Reader is a strong pants wearing gal, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-28 18:48:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeimosTheMoon/pseuds/DeimosTheMoon
Summary: Come one! Come all! To the creepiest circus in town, best known as Devil May Cry! But be wary, it isn’t for the faint of heart. Secrets lie beyond the colorful lights and electrifying people and hide something far more sinister. V, the tattooed animal tamer, has an odd air to him that you can’t quite put your finger on. You’re here for one job and one job only, find the truth. Nonetheless you are drawn to this wary ally as you search for answers regarding a murder on these grounds.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm very excited to present my very first fanfic!  
I've had this idea rolling around in my head for the past few weeks and I finally got around to plotting it out so please enjoy! Here is the prologue, but I will get chapter one uploaded probably late tomorrow.  
You can follow me on tumblr @ kylo-v to keep up with updates and submit asks. I look forward to hearing from you!!

Blood is fresh in the air.  


Thick.  


Foul.  


A woman’s screams pierce the sky but her pleas are unanswered. Her footsteps splash against the wet mud and echo through the circus grounds. Tears roll down her face and mix with the dried blood crusting to her face. A large gash decorates her beautiful face and tangles up her dark brown hair with blood and flesh. Her screams for help are useless as the members of the circus hide away in their tents. They choose not to listen to her, nor dare intervene.  


“Please, help me!! It’s after me!! IT’S AFTER ME!!” The woman cries, banging on locked doors. She hears shuffling and stifled cries behind them but no one ever answers.  


The creature. It approaches.  


Closer.  


Closer.  


CLOSER.  


It’s stench ripe in the air while it stalks the shadows, cornering it’s prey. It’s at the woman’s heels now, herding her into the forest. Her feet move faster than her body can carry her and she loses herself in the dense trees and brush. Twists and turns and darkness engulf her. Blood stings her eyes and blinds her as she trips over her feet and falls over a steep change in elevation. She crashes into a stream with a sickening crack. She screams in agony as her bones snap in both her legs and prevent her from escaping. Her fingers grasp desperately at the mud of the bank to the stream as she forces her body up. But it’s too late, there is no escape.  


“Please, no! God, please no!!!” She pleads as two sharp, blood red eyes loom over her. Wetness drips from above. Is it blood? No, it’s much more disgusting. Then she feels them, razor sharp teeth and heat against her soft, dirty cheek. She begs weakly but knows it’s no use, the creature has her.  


The woman’s last scream is cut prematurely by a bellowing roar and then replaced by wet smacking and crunching. It reverberates through the night and looms heavy in the circus grounds. No one sleeps that night, even as the creatures stalks back from whence it came.


	2. A Murder at Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader gets her first murder case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent all morning writing and editing this because I'm trying to roll these out quickly to get to the meat of the story. Please stay tuned for more! I will get the juicy bits out as quick as I can! Thanks!

One week later.

It was your first case in a few months. The last one had been such a bust and word got around that it stifled your work for weeks. Thankfully Morrison had been kind enough to let you float by on some of his earnings, but that was wearing thin. Your stomach growled loudly as you approached the mildly extravagant mansion. It's even bricks and elegantly cared for shrubbery intimidated you slightly. You barely had a concept of this amount of money being a single working woman with sparse money making opportunities. All you had eaten in the last few days were a few cups of coffee, stale bread, and a handful of potatoes and carrots. God you were sick of potatoes. God you hoped your stomach would embarrass you during the meeting. Maybe he would even feed you. You made a note to yourself to not devour anything like an animal if offered to you.  


“I’m Private Investigator (Y/N) Caulfield. I have a meeting with Dr. Thompson this afternoon,” you say with confidence. You had rehearsed this at least twelve times in the mirror this morning and internally patted yourself on the back when you didn’t stumble over a single word.  


“I know who you are. Right this way,” the man said with slight disdain as he moved himself to the side to allow you to step into the mansion.  


The mansion might not have looked lavish on the outside, but the inside was a different story. The walls were papered with purple and red patterns that reached to the tops of the high ceilings. The furniture was all made of heavy, polished mahogany and decorated with accents of gold. You were directed to a grand staircase and greeted by a cinnamon colored cocker spaniel. She approached you cautiously and barked in response when you attempted to reach down and pet her.  


“She bites,” the man, who you now assumed was Dr. Thompson’s butler, barked in the same tone as the dog.  


“Now, now, Abraham,” a voice broke the awkwardness. At the top of the stairs was a sloppily put together man, “Is this anyway to treat our guest?” He was an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and beard and tired, aged blue eyes.  


“My apologies, Dr. Thompson,” the butler replied, straightening himself but unable to hide the weariness in his tone. You glanced at Dr. Thompson and noticed his misbuttoned jacket and uncombed hair. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days but given the nature of this case, you understood his disheveled appearance.  


“Let’s talk in my office, Mrs. Caulfield. Come on, Maggie,” he beckoned the cocker spaniel who followed him obediently.  


“It’s Miss Caulfield, Dr. Thompson. I’m not married,” you huffed slightly. This was something that always annoyed you but couldn’t be helped, you supposed.  


“Oh, my apologies, Miss Caulfield. I was under the impression that Morrison was your husband,” he replied as he held the door open to his office, allowing you inside. Maggie cut you off first and darted in to hop into her dog bed seated by the desk.  


“Yes, that is usually everyone’s first impression…” you sighed slightly while you take a seat directly across from Dr. Thompson’s chair. You took a quick glance around the room. Fine, leather bound books and scattered items collected on the bookshelves around you and paper files were stacked neatly on the desk in front of you. The walls were littered with diplomas, awards, and a few pieces of unremarkable artwork of landscapes. Hanging at the opposite wall of the desk is a taxidermied boar’s head with wonky eyes and you have to control an outburst of laughter at the state of this poor creature, whose one eye is looking to China and the other to Antarctica.  


“My first big kill. I used a Winchester ‘94 to clock the bastard in the skull,” Dr. Thompson said with confidence when he caught you staring at the boar’s head for far too long.  


“I don’t know much about animal hunting, Dr. Thompson,” you said politely, not looking to engage in any more small talk.  


“Right, right…” Dr. Thompson gaped for a minute but cleared his throat as he took a seat in the large armchair on the other side of his desk.  


“Onto business,” you say as you pull out a hand notebook and a pen from the breast pocket of your jacket.  


“Are you aware of the nature of this case, Miss Caulfield?” Dr. Thompson asked cautiously as he reached down to pat Maggie on her little sleeping head.  


“I am. These types of cases have not stopped me before. Murder, 23 year old female found in the woods, mutilated and dismembered. Police investigate and rule it murder by hitchhiker but the culprit is never found.”  


“Good, Morrison updated you well.”  


“Thank you, I did all the research myself,” you retorted casually without looking up from your notes. Dr. Thompson couldn't help but smile slightly.  


“Do you know why I asked you to get involved, Miss Caulfield?”  


“No, sir,” you said as your stomach growled with slight persistence, though you ignored it.  


“I requested you because this case is...sensitive,” Dr. Thompson pursed his lips nervously. He reached down and opened a drawer in his desk, after a moment of shuffling around he pulled out a file folder. He laid the folder on the desk and retrieved two small, black and white pictures from it and handed them to you. Each photo was of a blurry portrait of a man, who at first glance could have been mistaken for one person but closer inspection proved otherwise. Both men had the same brisk white grey hair though in one picture one had it slicked back as opposed to down in the other. As you examined closer you realized these men were brothers, not just brothers but twin brothers. You could tell by the face structure, but the one with long hair had a stronger jaw and a small twisted mustache. He was smirking cockily in the photo, while the other man had a piercing and serious gaze. It sent shivers down your spine in an uncomfortable way.  


“These men are called Dante and Vergil Sparda. They run a circus by the name of Devil May Cry. The body was found not even a mile from the circus grounds though police could make no connection between them and the murder. Many of the eye witnesses claimed that they saw a man wandering around the campgrounds that they didn’t recognize. The police wanted to wrap the case up quickly and just pinned it on this supposed "interloper". Appearantly they have other things to worry about than the murder of a "whore",” Dr. Thompson said spitefully. You glanced up at him through your lashes and could see his hands clenched into fists on the top of the desk.  


“She meant something to you…” you said in a calm tone while you carefully slide the two photos back to him. His fists unclenched and he visibly intended his shoulders. He sighed and nodded his head regretfully.  


“She was my lover…” Dr. Thompson paused, “I...I tried to get her out of that lifestyle and bring her here but the man she worked for wouldn’t let her and we would have to meet in secret. I loved Marie, I truly did...” His voice cracked slightly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Your eyes softened with sympathy and you bit your lip gingerly. This was the shit that really got to you…  


“And you think these men are involved somehow?” You point to the pictures lying untouched on the desk. Dr. Thompson inhaled deeply to compose himself and nodded.  


“The night before Marie was murdered, she told me that she would be gone for a few days while she and three other girls entertained here,” he opened the file folder from earlier and handed you a flyer from the circus. It depicted a black lion roaring with the words Devil May Cry circus coming out of its mouth. Scrawled across the bottom is the location of the grounds and dates. It seemed that they would only be stationed in their current location for 2 more weeks, and there was no telling where they would go after that.  


“Marie wasn’t murdered by an interloper, she was murdered by someone or something on these grounds,” Dr. Thompson said deadly seriously, “It’ll be dangerous, so make allies. Are you still up for this? I’ll pay you anything, please.”  


You pondered for a moment. The stakes in this case were much higher in this case than any other one you had had before, but the paycheck was nice and something seemed to...pull you in. You stared at the picture of the black lion for an extended period of time. It’s shadowy fur seemed to glisten with purple and it’s fierce eyes drew you in with its amethyst intensity. For a moment, you had to remind yourself it was just a drawing.  


“Why me?” You asked as you gathered the flyer and pictures into the file folder to take with you. Dr. Thompson smiled sadly at your quiet acceptance.  


“I just wanted someone who would care…” he said solemnly. 

After half a payment in advance and a few signed contracts, the case was yours. The gold in your pocket weighed heavy in your trousers and tugged your suspenders tight against your shoulders. You didn’t care. You had enough money to buy ten pairs of suspenders if you wanted! You laughed gleefully and marched proudly towards the end of the driveway where Morrison was waiting for you in his car.  


“Seems things went well, Y/N,” Morrison smiled cockily, the smoke from his cigarette swirling the inside of the car.  


“You betcha! First case in months and it’s something worth my time,” you said as you climb into the passenger seat of the clunky old Model T. You splayed the file folder in your lap and scanned over the notes once again. It contained police reports, eyewitness testimonies, and a few extra photos of the workers. You picked up a photo shoved between a bundle of papers clipped together. It showed a dark haired man with plush lips and calm eyes. The picture was a full body and showed off his neck and arms that were covered in intricate tattoos. Sat atop his shoulder was a mighty bird with a piercing gaze and at his feet was the same black lion from the flyer. Again you felt that same pull you felt earlier when staring at the drawing of the lion. You flipped the photo over and written on the back was just a simple letter.  


V…  


What was this pull? You didn’t know, but you were determined to suppress it.


	3. The Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader explores the circus grounds and encounters all the many interesting characters it has to offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween everyone! Glad I was able to get this up in time!! Please enjoy the latest chapter and I'll plan on trying to get the next one up as soon as possible.

You had taken the earliest train train to Baton Rouge but the rest of the way you would either have to take by car or walk on foot. You knew you wouldn’t get there before sundown but you were determined to get answers the second you got there. You managed to catch a ride with an older man who dropped you off about half a mile from the circus grounds. You tossed him a nickel for his time and got to rolling up your trouser legs to avoid getting them dirty. It would be a long trek down the muddy path towards your "home" for the next few days. If you could even call it that. By then, the sun was starting to set, giving the treeline a slightly orange glow. 

The journey into the forest was...tense. Morrison insisted you take your revolver with you even though you felt you didn’t need it just to go ask some questions. Your feet ached and blistered in your shoes. A nearby log seemed like heaven for a moment when you laid down your heavy bags to take a break. You kicked off your shoes to rub your feet for a moment, so grateful that you hadn’t worn heels in years. You didn’t miss them either. The sun had disappeared over the horizon now but bright lights in the distance and the faint jiggle of circus music grabbed your attention. 

“Just a bit more to go…” you sighed to yourself while you slipped your aching feet back into your shoes. You shuddered slightly against the humid October breeze. Something seemed off about these woods. Not just because of the murder, but something else. Something much more sinister. You had the feeling that someone was watching you very, very carefully. It sent chills down your spine as you quickened your pace towards, what you hoped was, safety.

It was completely dark by the time you reached the circus grounds but it was nonetheless lively. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before! People in costumes roamed the grounds casually, a few men tugged along an unruly baby elephant to it’s containment, and women on giant stilts stepped over your head nonchalantly. You were so caught up in the moment and awe that, for a second, you forgot what you were there for. The lights, the music, the people. It reminded you of your lost childhood. That sadness crept up your throat again and you shook the thoughts away to ground yourself. You were here for a job and only that.

“Didn’t know we hired a new showgirl,” a sly, gruff voice from behind you broke your wandering thoughts. You jumped slightly and turned to see one of the men from your photos. He was much more handsome in person with his towering height and muscular build.

“Vergil, I presume?” You replied coyly, knowing your mistake but wanting to annoy the man regardless for his comment. You got the reaction you had hoped for when he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Cheeky, for a dame. I ain’t used to my broads talking back,” he retorted with slight venom. You smiled internally. This would be useful to you.

“I ain’t your dame, honey. I’m private investigator [Y/N] Caulfield and I’ve been hired by an anonymous party to investigate the murder of Marie Lissitzky,” you dropped your heavy bags at Dante’s feet. They collided with his feet and he howled in pain from the weight.

“Why you little-!” he exclaimed but was silenced by a hand on his shoulder.

“Now, now, brother. Is this any way to treat a guest?” another man, almost identical to Dante, emerged from behind him, “My apologies for his crass behavior, madam. He can be quite the savage.”

“Quite,” you replied as Vergil took your hand and kissed the top of it. This left a bad taste in your mouth as you took your hand away a bit harshly when he was done. You casted a glance to Dante who seemed to be slightly fuming. Proud of yourself, you pulled your cigarette case from your breast pocket and placed one to your lips.

“I’m sure you are aware of who I am,” you said to Vergil as you beat him to lighting your cigarette, “I am not here to be charmed, sir.”

“Of course, Miss Caulfield,” he replied, though you could tell his kindness was a guise and he wanted nothing to do with you. “Is there anything we may assist you with while you stay with us?”

“She’s staying with us!” Dante exclaimed.

“Well we can’t send her back now can we, Dante?”

“Who said we can’t?” Dante huffed but was quickly scolded by Vergil who snapped his fingers at his twin brother.

“Why don’t you help Miss Caulfield with her bags and show her to where she will be staying.” Vergil said in a slightly menacing tone. Dante’s shoulders visibly slumped in defeat and he reached down to pick up your bags.

“Thank you. I should be alright for the time being. Is it alright if ask your employees some questions?” you asked politely and tapped the ash off your cigarette.

“If they are willing to cooperate with you,” Vergil pursed his lips, “They aren’t used to civilians poking around their personal business but I will make sure they are as respectful as possible.” 

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Sparda,” you replied politely. Dante collected your things and begrudgingly motioned with his head to follow him. You snubbed the cigarette out on the heel of your shoe and tucked the butt into your coat pocket to dispose of later before you followed the brick wall of a man. He seemed to carry your bags with ease and you wondered if his outburst from earlier was just for show. 

"What exactly is it that you do here, Mr. Sparda?" You questioned. 

"Dante is fine," he snapped impatiently, “I’m the man to call when you need someone to sling his weight around. If you know what I mean.” He gave you a coy smile that you rolled your eyes to. 

Dante led you to a small trailer along the far edge of the circus grounds. Dante pushed the door open with his foot to reveal a quaint but private interior. There was a tiny fold out table and chair with an oil lamp sitting untouched on the table. A mattress laid next to it on the ground and was covered in a few scratchy wool sheets.

“Hopefully this will suffice, your highness,” Dante scoffed and unceremoniously tossed your bags onto the ground. They landed with a soft thud as a few of your books and notes fell out. With an aggravated sigh you waved your hand for Dante to depart from you and you crouched down to gather your paperwork back together.

“Oops. Let me know if you need anything, sweetcheeks. Oh, and be fair warned, the lock on this thing is a little janky,” the man chuckled as he exited without closing the door.

“Isn’t this going to be a treat…” you sighed to yourself and laid all your paperwork out on the table, “Better get to work…” You eyed the lock on the door warily and made a mental note to yourself to keep the chair pressed under the doorknob while you slept.

It seemed like all of the commotion from the show had died down and everyone had retreated to their tents for the night. The outer lanterns had been lit and left a soft orange glow around the perimeter of the grounds. You wandered for some time, taking notes in your small pocket notebook and sketching peacefully. It was quiet in the camp and you encountered no one, but you still had this looming sense that someone was watching you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up the entire time you explored the grounds. It left you greatly uncomfortable.

“Dangerous to wander these grounds alone at night,” a smooth voice broke the eerie silence. It spooked you and you yelped in response, dropping your notebook and pen into the mud.

“Thanks!” you huffed in annoyance. You sank to your knees into the dirt and stuck your hand out blindly into the dark to search for it. Your hand collided with another in the darkness and through the dim glow of the lanterns, you noticed intricate markings etched into the top of the mysterious man’s hands.

“My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you,” the man said as he handed you back your sullied notebook. You looked up at him and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. He was the same man from the picture in your file, only much more striking and beautiful in person. His plush lips curved into an apologetic smile and his shining green eyes could not be replicated. Soft raven colored locks framed his face in lazy curls and reflected the ambery glow around the two of you. The warm sepia tones of his photo didn’t do the beauty of this man justice.

“Oh, I… It’s alright,” you said as you accepted his outstretched hand to help you up. 

“It’s dangerous to be out wandering a strange new place alone, ma'am,” he responded politely with a tone of slight concerned.

“I can manage,” you replied and took your hand from his as it had lingered too long. You casually brushed the side front of your jacket to reveal the revolver Morrison gave you sitting snugly in its hostler. 

“Obviously,” the raven haired man smiled in amusement, “Do I pose that much of a threat to you?”

“I dunno. You seem a little dubious following a woman around at night, then popping out to tell her it’s dangerous. Maybe you’re the danger I need to be worried about,” you said confidently, trying to mask your embarrassment for screaming with your clever wit. It seemed to work as the mysterious man chuckled lightly in response.

“Potentially,” he grinned deviously. Your cunning seemed to charm him and you smiled to yourself. 

“I’m private investigator [Y/N] Caulfield. I’m here investigating the murder of Marie Lissitzky. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions, Misterrrr…?” You already knew his name from the picture, but you wanted to hear it from him.

“V… I just go by V,” he said quietly, his expression changed when you brought up Marie’s name. Intrigued, you took note of this in your mud soaked pocketbook.

“Alright, V. Do you remember anything from the night the body was found?”

“Yes… It was quiet that night. We had finished the last showing of the evening and I was tending to my animals before going to bed. Nothing was out of the ordinary.”

“You didn’t...hear anything? Or notice anything different or out of place?”

“Not at all. It was peaceful as always,” V shrugged and shifted on his feet slightly.

“Do you remember seeing the victim on the grounds before or after the show?” you asked but V shook his head. You sighed but jotted down notes thoughtfully into your book. This would be no help to you but it was required that you question anyone thoroughly. 

“She may have been in the audience that night but I am unsure…” he replied but something about his demeanor seems off. It would go unnoticed to someone untrained, but even through his collected manner, there was an air about this man that didn’t sit quite well with you. It welled in the pit of your stomach like it did when you saw his picture for the first time. You shake your head as incrotching thoughts began to pool in your mind. The image of a tattooed hand running it’s way through your hair flickered like a candle and you had to clear your dry throat to push the thought away. That heat rose in your cheeks again over your school girl thoughts. You hadn’t been kissed in years, let alone touched, and this man brought more than just heat pooling in your-

“Thank you, V. I appreciate you cooperating and helping me,” you said as you snapped your pocketbook shut with a loud thwap.

“Ahh, I know I wasn’t that much of a help,” V replied respectfully, his silky voice sending a chill up your spine, “I will leave you with some advice before I depart… I suggest you veere away from Dante and Vergil. They’re...They’re a bit predatory.” He pursed his lips warily. Your eyes lingered on those lips too long… Fuck, what was this man doing to your professional resolve?

“I’m one step ahead of you on that,” you retorted coyly and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. 

A silence fell between the two of you and you slipped your notebook back into your breast pocket. You looked to V who scratched the slight stubble growing on his cheeks. You took the moment to admire his slim figure and the inky symbols climbing up his neck and peeking over his buttoned shirt collar. The tattoos disappeared under his rolled up sleeves and you wondered how far they traveled. Did they go down his slender hips and go...even lower? You shuddered at the imagery and had to calm your raging thoughts by pulling out your cigarette case.

“Want one?” you asked as you offered a cigarette from your case. V obliged and retrieved one appreciatively. 

“I don’t usually smoke, but I can’t deny one in the company of a beautiful woman,” he responded playfully, leaning in to light your cigarette with the lighter from his pocket before lighting his.

“And Dante and Vergil are the predatory ones?” you grinned proudly when V flushed.

“I-... I didn’t mean to-...” he stuttered but you couldn’t help but think it was cute.

“Relax, I’m just teasing!” 

“My apologies, I’m not used to-...” 

“A woman speaking up?” You cut him off prematurely, “Yeah, I get it. I wear trousers and speak my mind. Does that bother you?” You felt bad for being so defensive but you were sick of the way men treated you. You weren’t some pushover. You were a private investigator who could take care of herself!

“No, no! I was going to say I'm not used to talking with people…" he shifted on his feet again, "I'm a night owl so I don't see people awake very often. Performing tires everyone out around here," he shrugged. 

"Oh!" you exclaimed with embarrassment, "What keeps you up at these hours, then?"

"My animals. They also prefer the nighttime…" he exhaled with a puff of smoke.

"Is that so?" you hummed quieted. You made a mental note of this, planning to write it in your notebook later. He must be hiding something. V must have known he divulged too much information because he was quick to snub out his half finished cigarette.

"Speaking of whom, I should go attend to them…" he replied gently.

"I'll be around if you think of anything else, V. Here, take my card," you fetched a business from the case in your pocket. Honestly, you just wanted to hand out the thick paper with your name on it because you rarely ever had the chance to. Most people refused it. 

"Thank you. I will keep you in mind," he responded blankly and graciously took the card from you. Your fingers brushed slightly and sent your skin ablaze. V nodded a farewell and left you alone in the dark once again.

"So the games begin…" you whisper to yourself as you blow a cloud of smoke into the air. V may prove to be an ally to you, but you needed to remain careful. The loner man was definitely hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can V be trusted? Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z...


End file.
